There are no interior lights to provide illumination in the overcast late afternoon. Except one in the basement, providing a vague glow in the stairwell.
Jane starts to walk through the house, looking to add some light. Turning on the electric baseboard heaters as she goes by them. She feels to see if they come on. It is damp and chilly. The heaters don’t work.
In the back room/ library she finds a TV set switched on. Static only. She switches it off.
She walks up the circular staircase to the second floor. Past the worn out, dusty ant traps and cobwebs. Into what appears to be the master bedroom. Old framed pictures on the wall. She looks in the closet. There are two rifles leaning against the rear wall.
Jane walks down the hallway. She turns into a small bedroom. Pulling back a large soiled sheet, she finds a worn and faded chenille bedspread.
High above the bed, the dark outline of missing crucifix remains. The faded wallpaper torn and stained at the site of the missing nail. On the wooden floor, beside the bed lies the cross.
Snapped into three pieces.
Jane starts to walk down toward the staircase to the first floor, her shoes making a crunching sound as she steps on dead flies.
Entering the kitchen, she begins to look in the cupboards. Opening and shutting them. A few chipped cups and saucers. Patterned yellow and white shelf liner, now discoloured.
The house is cold. Jane rubs her hands together.
Finding the single bare light bulb, she switches it on.
The phone begins ringing. Running, she hurries to get it. It stops when she picks up. Only a dial tone. As she walks away it starts to ring, again.
She tries to grab the receiver, knocking it off the cradle. It falls and hits her leg. Then, her foot.
“Shit! Jesus!”
Jane picks up the phone and yells, “YES!!! …..Hello?”
Jane is straining to hear what is being said on the phone. Irritated, she puts one finger into her other ear and pushes the receiver tightly to her ear.
“What? No. There is no Joan here. You have the wrong number….. Yes. I guess that is the number here. I don’t know. But I know there is no Joan here….What? I don’t know. Why don’t you look it up?”
Jane slams down the receiver.
“Moron!”
Jane walks away. The phone rings again. She grabs it and is ready to scream at the caller, but all she gets is a dial tone. She hangs up.
Thirsty and tired, Jane searches around in the kitchen for something to use as a cup. She finds an old glass preserve jar with something in it, like jam. She sticks in her finger. Smells her finger. She is overcome with nausea and starts to gag. Spitting into the kitchen sink, she notices stale food crumbs and a few dead bugs.
She finds some old cookies in a partially opened tin box in the cupboard. There are mouse droppings in the container, but she does not see them. Pulling out a cookie, she takes a bite, slowly chewing on the stale, moist remains.
There is a single unopened beer can in a cupboard filled with empty cans and wine bottles. She opens it. Flat.
She takes a sip, leaving the remainder on the counter.
She stands at the top of the steps to the basement. Jane tries the light switch on the wall. Off and on. The bulb is burned out. Jane begins to walk down the stairs, very slowly.
Testing each step, careful to avoid the rotting wood.
There is an unfinished basement.
Partially poured cement. The remainder is hard earth. Two old chest freezers. One of the freezer doors is open, providing a dim light source. She shuts it slowly. Then, opens it again, as it is now totally dark. She gets out her cell phone to use as a flashlight. Closes the freezer door. Then, checks to see if it stays closed. It does. She looks around the room without moving. Listening.
She hears the rain and wind rattling, stirring up vines in the window well.
The furnace comes on suddenly. She jumps, dropping her phone. It sounds like someone is tapping at the basement window. But, it is dark outside. She cannot see anyone.
Retrieving her phone, she walks toward the window and stops. There is creaking on the floor boards overhead. Upstairs, the light in the kitchen, goes out. Then, flickers on again.
She begins to negotiate the steps to the first floor. Slowly, she feels her way along the filthy walls. Up to the kitchen.
The light is on. The bulb swinging back and forth. No sign of anyone.
Alone, Jane leans against the kitchen counter, by a large window, overlooking farmyard. She picks up her cell phone and sees the screen is shattered.
In the distance, a light comes on in the barn.